A Bittersweet Ending

Last month, Elizabeth Goodyear passed away at the age of a hundred and three. Goodyear, who lived in Murray Hill, first gained notoriety in 2008, when the New York Times ran a front-page story about her reading circle. The circle was formed in 2003 when Alison West, a young neighbor of Goodyear’s, posted signs at yoga studios around the city calling for people to read aloud to her friend, who had gone blind some time earlier:

Liz has no family at all, and all her old friends have died, but she remains eternally positive and cheerful and loves to have people come by to read to her or talk about life, politics, travel — or anything else. She also loves good chocolate!

A number of people responded to the requests, and began to visit Goodyear regularly. They did read aloud from books—the British writer Rumer Godden was a favorite—but spent as much time listening to Goodyear tell them stories. From the sounds of it, she had plenty to tell. A New Yorker since the days of prohibition, Goodyear originally came to to the city with dreams of being an actress. That career was thwarted when she was told, in no uncertain terms, that she didn’t have any talent.

Goodyear would go on to work as a publicist and occasional playwright, and remained a devoted theatre-goer as long as her health allowed. In this wonderful audio slide show, produced by the Times in 2008, Goodyear talks about how she likes to recite, in alphabetical order, the names of the many plays she’s seen over the years. Over the years, she rubbed elbows with legends like Duke Ellington, Gypsy Rose Lee, and George Ballanchine, and she loved to talk about her adventures with her young visitors. In short, Goodyear was the colorful, well-lived veteran New Yorker every newcomer to the city dreams of living next to.

After the original profile ran in the Times, Goodyear’s circle of readers grew even wider. A group of actors staged a reading of one of Goodyear’s plays in her apartment, and the columnist Maureen Dowd sent a box of chocolates.

Last week, the Times broke the news of Goodyear’s passing. In her final days, members of her reading circle kept a vigil at her bedside. A bon vivant to the last, Goodyear squeezed in a sip of champagne moments before she died. “I asked her if she’d like a sip and she whispered yes,” said West, according to the Times. A memorial service was held at the Church of the Transfiguration, after which friends divided Goodyear’s belongings according to a wish list she’d left behind:

Sara Nolan, 31, a writer and teacher, received the novels by Ms. Goodyear’s favorite writer, Rumer Godden, with one exception: “The River,” which Ms. Goodyear had left to Megan Mook, 29. It was the last book they had read together.

Sharing great books, chocolate, and champagne with friends: surely, there are worse ways to go.